A guard was lifting his father into his wheelchair when they reached them. His mother was right behind him, a warm smile on her face. Jasyn wondered if his mother was relieved now that his father would no longer be putting himself in danger, though those fears were shifted towards Jasyn, no doubt. He wished his mother could live without that burden weighing her.
“You’re home,” Jasyn said as he wrapped his arms around his mother, holding her extra tight. He passed over the basket with the rolls, and his mother immediately took a bite with a satisfied sigh.
“Jasyn is in love,” Mych said cheekily.
His parents snapped their attention to him.
“Truly?” his father’s gruff voice asked as he rolled up closer. “I knew you two would be a power match, but it is a gift from Slone if it's a love match too.”
“Lady Esi is caring. She has taught me things about myself I didn’t even know,” Jasyn said.
“Youarein love,” his mother said, her excitement palpable as she squeezed his shoulders. Her dark curls were adorned with gold decorations that framed her face beautifully.
“We should pop open a bottle of sparkling wine,” his father announced.
“Let’s not celebrate too early. I have an Undertaking to get through first.”
“Even more of a reason to open the alcohol,” Mych muttered under his breath as they entered the glass castle.
The appointment with the seamstress wasn’t for another hour, but the way Bron yanked her onward, one would think they were running late. The lively streets were busy with townspeople decorating for the party. Flags and ribbons hung from tree branches; flower beds in front of windows were being watered. Children ran around with chalk in their hands, coloring the streets with their drawings. It made Iskra smile, but that quickly disappeared.
“You have explaining to do,” Bron huffed. “You and that owner of yours, Kryth.” He said the minister’s name like it was a curse.
“He’s not my owner.” The words were fruitless. No matter how much she wished they were true, they weren’t.
“He’s the minister, and you’re nothing but his pet.”
Iskra flinched at the words, like they were a blow to the gut.
They were at the shop, and this time, Bron went in through the back, Iskra right behind him. Esi was studying the cages closely, reaching toward the other dragons. They nipped at her finger, and instead of swiping her hand away, she laughed lightly.
“That tickles,” she said quietly. Kryth raised a brow at her and shook his head. She was an enigma, but she turned to Bron and asked, “Why did you bring us all here?”
“Start explaining,” Bron ordered both Kryth and Iskra.
Kryth snorted. His appearance was as the minister, and Iskra thought she hated that more than his shop owner form. Iskra crossed her arms, her eyes on the empty cage.
Esi slapped her guard gently on his shoulder.
“Don’t be rude,” Esi chastised. “We still need them.”
Everyone in the room stilled.
Esi eyed each of them but stopped on Iskra. “This isn’t over just because you transform into a dragon.”
“How about that she lied to us? Not just about her being a dragon, but about Jasyn,” Bron pushed.
Although Iskra’s eyes were entirely focused on the two bickering, she could feel Kryth’s stern gaze on her. She heard the sizzle of fire, and then the air began to fill with smoke. Kryth didn’t say anything as he smoked from his pipe, as if waiting to see how this conversation would turn without his input.
“It was an omission of truth,” Esi reasoned as she braided her hair and tied it with a white ribbon.
“What have you learned that had to remain such a secret?” Kryth asked.
“Nothing,” Iskra snapped.
“His power,” Esi replied.
“His light,” Bron corrected.
